To come to blows
by Yeah2012
Summary: An unexpected visitor causes disagreements between Sherlock and John, but how long will it last? This is my first fanfic, so please read and tell me what you think!


**Chapter 1:An Unexpected Visitor**

John drummed his fingers on the edge of the sofa. His body was still not used to being so inactive for long periods of time and it would betray him before he knew it, his eyes slowly drifting closed. As sleep threatened though, a sound from the kitchen startled him and he would wake, heart beating the familiar rhythm of adrenaline rapidly in his ears. John could hear the occasional muttering which was, from this distance, all but nonsensical, and had long since tried to understand the purpose of Sherlock's current experiment. He estimated that was probably the fifth experiment of the last 8 hours, and, John deduced, it wasn't going well.

Aware that he could no longer ignore the craving for caffeine, John ventured into the kitchen. An assessment of the contents of the kitchen tables suggested a victim, cut into numerous parts and a quantity of vials of quite frankly hazardous looking liquids. At this point Sherlock, who hadn't bothered to acknowledge John's appearance, was prodding what looked to John suspiciously like the rear end of a baboon.

"Unbelievable," John muttered, giving a small shake of his head and proceeding to boil the kettle. First it had been eyeballs, then fingers. Now it seemed Sherlock's subjects had advanced to African animals. Quite where Sherlock had acquired a baboon, John was sure he didn't want to know; and where the rest of the unfortunate animal was for that matter. But glancing at Sherlock's face which was contorted into a frown, his eyes focused intently on his subject as if he could scorch holes in it with a stare, John wasn't going to disturb him.

The most recent case had left Sherlock bored. It had taken all but 18 minutes at the crime scene to establish the identity of the criminal, an obviously simple case of a jealous woman taking a knife to her best friend. She had been transferred to a psychiatric hospital in Southall. Since that six days ago, no case had materialized that had been of any interest to Sherlock. John was worried that Sherlock would revert back to his old habit of cocaine, and Sherlock had already wrestled a ten pound note from John to buy some cigarettes in the shop on the corner. So far though, it appeared that Sherlock, by dedicating himself to his seemingly pointless investigations, was making an effort to resist the temptation.

Sherlock refused to draw his attention away from the table, even when it was apparent he had heard the creak of footfalls on the stairs that hesitated on nearing the door. A soft knock accompanied the footsteps, the visitor evidently wary whether they should enter, confusing John. An unwanted visitor would be more likely to barge into the flat, while Lestrade's knock was more forceful. John failed to think of a feasible individual, although Sherlock had undoubtedly made many assumptions before deciphering who it was, what they were wearing, and what they had had for breakfast that morning. When it became apparent that Sherlock wasn't going to, John cleared his throat and moved towards the door of 221B.

John opened the door, and, when he realised he was still frowning, plastered a smile on his face, stretching his cheeks into what he hoped was a wide smile.

"Molly!" He exclaimed, with noticeable surprise in his voice. He couldn't say that the surprise was false though; Molly Hooper was one of the last visitors he had expected. Since the Christmas party they had hosted the year before last, he was certain that he hadn't seen Molly outside of St. Bart's. He was astonished that she had come to 221B after that night, though and immediately assumed that this wasn't a social visit.

"Hey John." She greeted the man somewhat nervously. She didn't expand her salutation as she usually would whenever they encountered each other at the hospital, and the conversation fell flat. Molly, still dressed in her white lab coat, had obviously arrived straight from the hospital, causing John to wonder about the urgency to visit.

John realised that Molly still hovered uncertainly on the doorstep, and immediately stepped aside so Molly could enter.

"Come on in."

With what appeared to be a substantial amount of effort, Molly stepped over the threshold into the interior of the flat. She glanced around the flat, before letting her eyes rest on Sherlock's figure, hunched over a microscope in the kitchen. As if he had realised that he was being watched, Sherlock jerked up into an upright position, the frown still evident in his features. His eyes widened, making it obvious that his previous deduction, which John had assumed he had made, had been incorrect. He tensed, as did Molly, and some unspoken message passed between the two, each seeming to be as resentful as each other.

Sensing the tension between the two, John cleared his throat.

"Coffee, Molly?"

"No, thank you" Molly's reply was sombre, and she swallowed hard. Tears were threatening to fill her eyes but Molly determinedly shook them away. Sherlock hadn't even shifted his position, resolutely scrutinizing Molly with an almost unsympathetic glare. Turning her head towards the door, Molly hesitated before sinking into the armchair that was closest to her, and furthest away from Sherlock. John had become conscious that something had happened between the two when Sherlock had suddenly refused to acknowledge her existence months ago, and it seemed neither party was willing to forgive and forget. Sherlock stubbornly folded his arms across his chest, and John was tempted to do the same. Once again exasperated at Sherlock, John released a sigh. It was obvious that Molly had a motive for coming to Baker Street, or she wouldn't have come at all. She was perched on the edge of the chair, ready to escape at any moment, but John made a silent promise to himself that he was not going to let that happen, even with Sherlock in the unsociable mood that he was.

Molly Hooper's unexpected appearance had intrigued John, and he was going to discover they reasoning behind it. And perhaps even restore the friendship between the two in the process. Though, as the tension in the room only increased, John dejectedly feared that that was just wishful thinking.


End file.
